


to be with you

by Camellia_Bee



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basketball, Cancer, Death, Friendship, Gen, Ghosts, I don't know how it ended up like this, Implied/Referenced Abuse, also being a ghost does not make yuto less afraid of loud noises, he's just babie i don't make the rules, it was going to be fluff..., there really is a happy ending though i promise, yeah idk man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:06:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27117217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camellia_Bee/pseuds/Camellia_Bee
Summary: Yuto has been haunting the basketball court ever since he died in the '90s. All this time, no one has been able to see or hear him... then Yang Hongseok comes up to him and offers to play a pickup game. Why can Hongseok see him? And more importantly... does he want to be friends?
Relationships: Yang Hongseok & Adachi Yuto
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	to be with you

Yuto liked to watch him play. The hollow _thunk_ of the basketball against the ground was so satisfying, and watching him make shot after impossible shot and laugh with his friends on the rare occasion when he’d miss - it was soothing. Reminded Yuto of when he used to play, back when he was alive.

Of course, even as a ghost he could still lift the ball and dribble it around the court, toss it into the hoop and listen to the _swish_ it made as it fell through the net. It wasn’t that fun, though, when you had no one to play with. Yuto only knew one other ghost, and she haunted her great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter’s house across town. She didn’t really like to leave the house - he supposed that living in the same place for over two hundred years would make someone pretty set in their ways. She also didn’t know how to play basketball.

The boy, though, Hongseok - he came almost every day, sometimes with friends and sometimes alone, and he’d play for hours. The basketball court seemed almost like his second home. It made Yuto worry sometimes; he remembered the feeling of wanting to escape his house so badly that he’d stay here longer than was wise, packing a meal in secret and sneaking out with his basketball hidden in his backpack, hoping his parents wouldn’t ask where he was going.

Hongseok was probably happy, though. Even when he played till after dark, it seemed like his only motivation to be here was that he simply enjoyed it. He smiled a lot, and his laugh always sounded genuine and carefree.

He’d play music sometimes, out of a little portable speaker. Yuto loved when that happened - it was nice to hear music again, and he could keep up on the current trends. Somehow, staying up-to-date had become much more important to him since he’d died. Maybe it was just that he was desperate to feel like part of something again. After all, things had changed a lot (cell phones had big screens now, and even though they were tiny, they could do more than even the fancy computer that Yuto’s family had had that’d been about the size of his basketball). Luckily, Hongseok’s taste in music was similar to Yuto’s. Hongseok had a lovely voice, too - he sang along every so often when he was taking breaks, but only when his friends weren’t there. Yuto wished he could tell him not to be shy about it.

***

Yuto was tied to the basketball court. He didn’t know how it worked - he honestly didn’t know much of anything about the whole ghost business, he’d just woken up after his dad had given him a much worse beating than usual and, instead of moving off the floor when he tried to stand, he’d gotten up out of his body - but if he spent too much time too far away from the basketball court, he started to feel confused and dizzy, and the few times he’d tried staying out even after that, he’d eventually experienced an intense, burning pain across his entire being and then suddenly found himself lying in the middle of the court. He assumed it was because he’d spent so much time here while he was alive. It had definitely been an important place for him.

This fact didn’t usually bother him too much, but there were times when it was very inconvenient.

Hongseok came to the basketball court looking very upset one day and immediately started practicing - he threw the ball with more force than necessary and purposefully made extra noise whenever he did anything. Yuto watched from the sidelines, as usual. He took note of how Hongseok relaxed as he got into the zone; when he took his first break, he seemed less frustrated, and he returned to his drills without the furious intensity he’d had before.

As the sun started to set, Hongseok sighed and put his basketball away, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He jogged back to where his things were - halfway there, though, he suddenly doubled over in pain and fell to the ground. His breath was heavy and ragged, loud enough for Yuto to hear from the other side of the court.

Yuto stood quickly, running over to check on him. He was pale, grimacing, eyes squeezed shut. Was the sweat on his forehead from the exercise, or something else?

He needed help.

Yuto glanced around - no one in the area. He’d have to find somebody.

The basketball court was close to a shopping center; that was probably his best bet. He took off running.

He wasn’t feeling dizzy yet when he reached the parking lot. A good sign. He searched for somebody to alert and decided on the young man exiting a car nearby; someone who hadn’t started on their errands was more likely to help.

Of course, the problem was how to get the man to actually come help, since Yuto still hadn’t figured out how to make himself visible or audible to living people.

As the man closed the door of his car, Yuto reached over and pressed the panic button on his keychain. The car alarm went off - it was louder than he expected, and he flinched at the same time as the young man did.

“What the…” the man muttered, and reached down to turn the alarm off. He turned to walk away from the car.

Okay, that hadn’t worked. Yuto picked up a pebble from the ground and tossed it at the man’s head. The man whirled around, eyes wide, searching for whoever had thrown the pebble, but Yuto was the only person (spirit?) around.

The man frowned. “Hello? Is someone there?”

Yuto picked the pebble up again and dropped it in front of the man’s feet.

“Um.” The man looked around. “What… I’m going crazy, right?”

Yuto took a step forward and clicked the unlock button on the keychain, then the lock button. Then he did it again, just in case the first time hadn’t been enough. His head was starting to feel funny.

“Okay,” the man said cautiously. “So, uh, spirit? Ghost? Invisible person? Fae? Extradimensional-slash-extraterrestrial entity? Whatever - or whoever - you are… you want something?”

Yuto nodded, then remembered that the man couldn’t see him, so he reached out and tried taking his hand. As he closed his fingers around the man’s wrist, the man yelped and drew his hand back. “Ow! You’re cold!”

He’d have to try something else. He crouched and took the pebble again - this was kind of funny, honestly, communication via pebble - tapping it on the ground. When the man looked down, Yuto made the pebble hop a couple of steps in the direction of the basketball court.

The man raised an eyebrow. “You want me to go this way?”

Yuto made the pebble jump up and down.

“All right.” The man laughed a little to himself. “This is so weird. Where are we going?”

The pebble fell through Yuto’s hand. It had been quite a while since he’d left the basketball court - he’d forgotten that his capacity to interact with physical objects and the amount of time he could affect things decreased the further away he got. He tried to pick it up again, but his hand passed right through it. He’d need to rest a little before moving anything else - he didn’t have that kind of time, though.

After a few seconds, the man started to slowly walk forward. “Is this the right way?”

Yuto focused all of his attention on the pebble and managed to scoot it forward about an inch.

“Okay, cool.” The man proceeded in the direction Yuto had indicated. Yuto followed. He had to think of a way to get the man to turn when he needed to in order to get him to the basketball court, but with every moment that passed, he could feel himself growing weaker. There was a weird pressure in his lungs now. As a ghost, he supposed he didn’t have to breathe - he still did out of habit, though, and the sensation of his chest being constricted was enough to make him panic. His ribs and sternum ached.

They reached an intersection. The man would have to turn left here; of course, he didn’t realize that, and he started to cross the street in the same direction he’d been going before. Without thinking, Yuto reached out to grab his shoulder.

His hand passed right through (ugh, it tingled, like he was being shocked with electricity), but the man paused and said, “Yikes - that’s freezing. What’s up?”

Yuto gathered his energy and pulled at the man’s left sleeve. As he released the fabric, a wave of fatigue hit him. He’d learned that physically interacting with things shortened the time he could spend away from the court - he’d thought he had bigger energy reserves, but maybe holding that pebble continuously had drained him more than he realized.

“Okay, got it.” The man turned left and started walking again.

Thank God this guy was good at picking up his cues.

Yuto managed to guide him close enough to the basketball court that he could just barely see Hongseok, still curled up on the ground, through the haze clouding his vision. He mustered up every last bit of resolve left in his being, grabbed the front of the man’s shirt, and _tugged_.

As he did so, he felt searing pain rush through him, starting from his hand where it touched the shirt and washing over him in an agonizing blast. Everything went white.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he woke up sprawled on his back in the middle of the court, but the man was now kneeling next to Hongseok and talking on his phone, presumably calling 911. Hongseok was clearly still breathing, which was a relief.

The ambulance arrived shortly. Yuto couldn’t understand anything the paramedics were saying - his ears were still ringing, and it felt like he’d just sprinted an entire marathon - but they loaded Hongseok onto a stretcher and took him away.

Yuto could still cry, even as a ghost, so that was how he spent his night.

***

After several weeks, Hongseok returned. He looked better, though a little tired, and he laughed with his friends like before.

When he came on his own, though, he was different. He’d practice and do drills over and over, obviously pushing himself harder than he should; he never listened to his music anymore either, too focused on practice.

Months passed. Hongseok seemed to get tired more quickly and need more frequent breaks nowadays. He’d disappeared for almost six weeks around Christmas and had come back thinner and paler, with dark circles under his eyes that still hadn’t gone away; Yuto hadn’t seen him without a hat since. His friends treated him like he was fragile when they played, even though he constantly told them not to worry about him. He started showing up by himself more often than not after a while - it made sense to Yuto, since with the friends around, Hongseok was forced to take things slower than he’d like, but by himself he could set his own pace.

***

“Hey.”

Yuto snapped out of his reverie - he’d been watching the sky fade after the sunset - and glanced up at Hongseok to see who he was talking to. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around the basketball court, though, and he was starting to wonder if he’d imagined it, but then - 

“Hey,” Hongseok repeated. He was looking right at Yuto.

“Um. Hi.” Yuto waved a little. He hadn’t actually used his voice in years - it felt strange to be talking again.

Hongseok bounced his basketball a few times, continuing to eye Yuto suspiciously. “You’ve been watching me practice.”

It was a statement, not a question, so Yuto nodded.

“I’ve been noticing you here for ages,” Hongseok said, “but you always seem so shy. I don’t think you’re a stalker-” he squinted - “you’re probably even younger than me, I’m guessing, and I haven’t seen you anywhere else before. So… what’s your deal?”

Yuto frowned. “How long have you been seeing me?” He’d thought he was still invisible to living people. Had that changed?

“About a year, I guess.” Hongseok shrugged. “How long have you been hanging out here?”

“Since, uh,” Yuto floundered for a second, then decided to just tell the truth - he’d always been terrible at lying. “1998.”

Hongseok raised his eyebrows. “Wait, how old are you actually?”

“Nineteen.” He’d been nineteen then, at least.

“So, you’ve been hanging around here since before you were born? Last I checked, nineteen-year-olds were born after 1998.”

Yuto nodded. “Yeah.” He couldn’t exactly explain that he’d _died_ in 1998, not been born then, so hopefully Hongseok wouldn’t press the issue.

“Alright.” Hongseok grinned.

The question of how Hongseok could see him was still at the forefront of Yuto’s mind. It didn’t make sense - he’d definitely been invisible to the man who’d called the ambulance for Hongseok, and that had been in the fall; it was early spring now, so maybe half a year had passed since then, yet Hongseok had been seeing him for a full year.

What was going on?

Hongseok shifted his weight, turning the basketball over in his hands a couple of times. “Anyway, can I ask why you’ve been watching me? I mean… you’ve got to admit it’s a little weird.”

“Oh… I used to do basketball. It was nice seeing you and your friends play together because it made me think of when I played, and I - um, I hang out here a lot. I thought you wouldn’t mind if I watched.”

“Hmm.”

A pause.

“So…” Hongseok lifted the ball. “You want to play a pickup game?”

Yuto stared at him for a second. “What?”

“A pickup game. You know, with me. Seems like you really miss it, and I’m down to play a bit more.” Hongseok tossed the ball over, and Yuto caught it on instinct. 

“C’mon.”

Yuto followed him to the center of the court, dribbling the ball. He hadn’t practiced in a while, but if it was possible to have muscle memory without muscles, he’d have it - of course, it helped that while he was in the basketball court, he could interact with things normally, the way he had when he was alive, whenever he wanted to.

Hongseok had an edge over him, and Yuto ended up losing all four of their games horribly - nonetheless, it was the best time he’d had in ages. By the time they finished, he felt (somehow) tired and out of breath, but he was laughing at Hongseok’s silly faces and dumb jokes while making equally stupid faces back at him, and something in his chest felt very warm.

Eventually, Hongseok departed, with a promise to play again soon.

***

Yuto had looked forward to when Hongseok would come to the basketball court before, but these days it was taking on a new meaning. It wasn’t just him sitting by and watching anymore - now, when he saw Hongseok, he could talk with him, run through drills and practice with him, wander around and just hang out with him. Hongseok thought it was weird that Yuto didn’t have a phone, and he kept trying to convince Yuto to meet his friends or go places with him; he accepted Yuto’s excuses, though (lack of money, social anxiety, sensory overload - anything he could come up with, really), and didn’t pressure him too much.

Then, as summer approached, Hongseok started acting strange.

Yuto finally gave in one afternoon, after Hongseok had avoided looking him in the eye at least six separate times that day.

“Hongseok?”

Hongseok glanced over his shoulder, still digging in his bag for snacks. “Yeah?”

Yuto hesitated. Should he be asking about it? Maybe he shouldn’t… No, you had to look out for your friends, make sure they knew you cared.

“It seems like you haven’t really been doing well lately, so… um, I don’t know what’s up, but I wanted to let you know you can talk to me.” He looked at the ground. “That’s - that’s it, I guess. Just… I’m here if you need someone.”

Hongseok’s hands stilled. Everything went quiet for a moment; Yuto started to worry that he’d made everything awkward and that maybe Hongseok was just going to leave, but then Hongseok stood and walked over.

“Can we talk for a bit?” Hongseok asked. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

Yuto nodded - Hongseok guided him over to the edge of the basketball court and sat down with him.

“So…” Hongseok started. He paused, frowned for a second. “Ugh, it’s hard to think of a good way to talk about this.” He adjusted his cap - a telltale sign, recently, that he was anxious.

“Take your time,” Yuto said. “No rush.”

Hongseok sighed. “Okay. So, I’ve been having a really good time hanging out with you. Not just because you play basketball, but for other reasons too. I like to think of you as a good friend… so I think you deserve to know this.” His expression grew somber. “I might stop coming here soon. It’s not because of you, don’t worry about that - I’m just… I won’t be able to. I don’t know how long it’s going to be. Probably a few months. I’ll come as often as I can before that, but -” He broke off, biting his lip.

Yuto waited for him to continue.

“I…” Hongseok took a deep breath. “I’m sick. Like, really sick. And my doctors have - they’ve stopped talking about how to get rid of it and started talking about, um, how long we can put it off. They say they don’t know for certain, but from what I can gather… it’s gonna be less than six months until - you know.”

Yuto froze. He felt hollow, like his insides had just been scooped out.

Hongseok was going to _die_.

Despite being a ghost himself, Yuto hadn’t had much experience with death. He didn’t remember his own - he supposed he’d been unconscious for long enough before actually dying that it had just felt like waking up - and he’d never experienced the death of a friend or family member. He hadn’t even gotten to stick around long enough to see his own funeral (if he’d had one; it wouldn’t surprise him if his dad had just dumped his body somewhere in order to avoid getting caught).

The idea of Hongseok dying… 

No way. No way was that going to happen.

Hongseok was saying something - Yuto forced himself to tune back in.

“-been doing chemo since December, but it hasn’t done a whole lot, so… we decided to stop trying a couple weeks ago. I mean, if I only have a certain amount of time, I’d rather _not_ spend it getting doused with radiation and chemicals that aren’t going to help anyway.” Hongseok shrugged. “Maybe I’ll even be able to grow some hair back soon enough that I’ll look good if my family decides to do an open-casket.”

Yuto looked at him silently.

Hongseok cracked a half-hearted grin and said, “Wanna see my bald head?”

After a moment, Yuto nodded. Hongseok removed his cap - he was, indeed, bald. It took a few seconds for Yuto’s mind to register; he almost didn’t realize that he’d automatically reached out to touch it. Embarrassing.

“Go ahead,” Hongseok said, and tilted his head toward Yuto. “You can feel it if you want.”

Yuto cautiously placed his hand on top of Hongseok’s head. It was smooth - he ran his hand over it a few times.

Hongseok laughed. “I keep forgetting how cold your hands always are. You have terrible circulation.”

Yuto withdrew his hand, and Hongseok put his cap back on. “I’m gonna have some snacks. You want some?”

“No, thanks.” Yuto tried to smile. It must not have come out quite right, though, because Hongseok gave him a concerned glance and said quietly, “You okay? I know this is a lot to take in, sorry.”

Yuto shook his head. “It’s not- you shouldn’t be sorry about it. I just need to… process, I guess.”

“Fair.” Hongseok stood, stretching. “I should go in about half an hour, I’ve got a doctor’s appointment at three-thirty. You down to play a little more after I eat?”

“… Sure.”

***

“Hey, Yuto?”

“Yeah?” Yuto rolled over onto his side to look at Hongseok. The dry grass tickled as he moved; he wasn’t sure why things like that still happened, given the fact that he no longer had a body, but it was nice. It made him feel a little more real.

“You believe in the afterlife?” Hongseok stared up at the sky, frowning.

“Um. I guess, yeah.” Did being a ghost count? He’d believed in _something_ after death, back when he was alive, and he supposed that, since he only knew one other ghost, most people’s souls had to be somewhere else. It didn’t make sense for them to disappear entirely, not if his own soul could stick around like this, so there must be another place for them to go.

Hongseok nodded a little. “What kind?”

“Dunno.” Yuto shrugged. “A nice one, I hope.”

“Okay.”

A pause.

“Yuto?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise you’ll find me?”

Yuto propped himself up on one elbow. “What do you mean?”

“In the afterlife.” Hongseok gazed at him. “I’m gonna get there first, but I’ll make sure to meet you when you come. Just… promise you’ll find me, okay?”

“I…” Yuto hesitated.

“Please.”

Yuto looked down at the grass. “I - I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“How come?” Hongseok’s voice sounded thick, like he was struggling not to cry.

“Because I won’t be able to make it there. I’m stuck here.” After a moment, Yuto decided to just say it. “I’m a ghost.”

Honestly, he was surprised that he’d been able to keep the secret this long - it was late summer now, and Hongseok had first talked to him in early spring, so he’d hidden it for almost half a year, not including the time in which Hongseok had seen him but not approached.

“You’re a what?” Hongseok squinted at him.

Yuto held out his hand. When Hongseok reached out to take it, he let it go ethereal and passed it through Hongseok’s hand and arm a few times.

“Wait, wait.” Hongseok stared at his hand. “Do that again.”

Yuto complied.

“So, like, would it be possible to do something like putting my whole arm through your chest?”

Yuto nodded.

“Can I try?”

“Sure.”

Hongseok sat up and cautiously extended his arm towards Yuto’s torso; he hesitated when his hand reached Yuto’s chest, as if he was expecting to meet resistance, but when it slid in easily, his eyes widened and he started waving his hand around. “This is so weird! You’re super cold. Woah, I can see my fingers poking out of your shoulder - that’s freaky. Do you feel anything when I do this?”

“Okay, get out now, please. It kind of stings.”

Hongseok drew his hand back quickly. “Oh. You should have told me, I’m sorry.” He furrowed his brow. “Does it always hurt when you go through stuff? Or is it just people going through that stings? And, like, is that an _everytime_ thing or a _sometimes_ thing?”

“Uh.” Yuto thought for a second. “Usually only people. And it doesn’t hurt that much, it just feels really weird.”

“Huh.” Hongseok sat back, apparently deep in contemplation.

Eventually, Yuto spoke up. “You’re not… freaked out?”

“Oh, I am,” Hongseok said matter-of-factly. “I just also think this is super cool. So, do you get to decide when you want to be solid and when you want to be - uh, ghost-y?”

Yuto nodded. “It’s easier to move things around when I’m here at the basketball court, since I live here, but yeah.”

“You live here? Why here?”

“I think it’s because I spent a lot of my time here when I was alive. I don’t know, though. No one told me how it works.”

Hongseok pulled up a tuft of grass and started picking it apart. “Aren’t there, like, more experienced ghosts who could tell you about it?”

“No… I only know one other ghost, and she doesn’t talk to me much. She lives across town and usually doesn’t travel.”

“Only one?” Hongseok suddenly seemed to deflate a little. “Do most people… not turn into ghosts?”

“Seems like it.”

“… Oh. And you don’t know how to stop being a ghost and go to wherever most people go?”

“Nope.” Yuto sighed.

Hongseok didn’t say anything for a few moments. His expression was difficult to decipher. Finally, he shook his head and said in a flat tone, “What’s the point, then?”

“The point of what?” Yuto asked.

“You know - all this.” Hongseok flopped onto his back again; the grass crunched as he lay down. “You’re lonely, right? You’ve been lonely for a long time, and when I die, you’ll go back to being lonely again, ‘cause you’ll be stuck here and I’ll be stuck wherever everyone else is.” He shrugged a little. “It just doesn’t seem fair. Someone’s screwing you over.”

Yuto lay down next to him; the grass didn’t make a sound. “Maybe. I guess we’ll just have to enjoy the time we’ve got.”

Hongseok closed his eyes and said quietly, “I want more, though. This isn’t fair.”

“It’s okay. This is enough for me.” Yuto reached out and took Hongseok’s hand, making sure not to turn ethereal this time.

Hongseok opened his eyes again and gazed up at the sky. 

“It shouldn’t have to be.”

***

Nowadays, when Hongseok came to the basketball court, they didn’t play basketball. They didn’t do much of anything, really - Hongseok’s condition was only getting worse, and he had less energy and looked thinner and more sickly every time Yuto saw him. Mostly, they just sat and talked.

Then, one day, Hongseok didn’t show up.

Yuto waited for him.

A day.

Two days.

A week.

A month.

Eventually, Yuto let himself cry. 

***

“Yuto?”

Slowly, Yuto opened his eyes. The basketball court looked brighter than usual - like it did in the spring after rain. Come to think of it, the grass around the court was green, and there were leaves on the trees. Wasn’t it winter?

“Yuto!” Hongseok ran across the court and slammed into Yuto, hugging him tight. He looked happy and healthy, not at all like the frail, exhausted boy Yuto had gotten used to seeing.

“What - Hongseok?” Yuto managed to say before all the air was squeezed out of him. When he was released, he stepped back a little and stared at Hongseok. “What’s going on? Are you…?”

Hongseok grinned hugely. “You came with me!”

“I - where? What?”

“Yuto, you got to move on.”

Yuto frowned. “I’m really confused.”

“This,” Hongseok gestured at their surroundings, “isn’t the place you were stuck at. It looks like it, but it’s not. You’re not a ghost anymore - you went on to what’s next. With me.”

“How?”

Hongseok shrugged. “Dunno. I mean, you’ve said maybe you were stuck at the basketball court because it was important to you… maybe it stopped being so important?”

Suddenly, everything clicked.

In Yuto’s mind, for so long, the most important thing had been safety - refuge from his parents, a place where he could be himself and do what he wanted - and he hadn’t dropped that mindset even after he died. He’d clung to the basketball court as the thing that gave him respite.

Things were different now.

Now, what was really important…

was standing right in front of him, smiling like Yuto had never seen him smile before and reaching to take his hand.

“So,” Hongseok said with an air of great excitement, “pickup game?”


End file.
